Agrabah: Dawn of Aida
by astridhearthfire
Summary: Before the times of Aladdin's adventures, the royal family suffered a series of crises that threatened to tear the kingdom apart. A young vizier works to obtain position and power in order to stop disaster from occurring, yet his plans are thwarted when a once-exiled noble family returns. What will happen when its heiress falls in love? Will he forget his own path? AU, Prequel
1. Chapter 1

Agrabah

~Aida~

The sand stung at her eyes, but it was nothing compared to the barbs of her father and her older brother. Their envoy was long, a caravan swaying and slithering as it snaked its way through the dunes under the moonlight. Every now and then a jostle would rouse her from her half-slumber, or a fresh cool breeze was drive more granules of the desert against her cheeks. Suddenly, everything halted. She winced as she was thrown against the side of the palanquin, and shaking the daze from her head she would glance outside.

Agrabah. Her entire life, her entire existence, had led up to coming to Agrabah. If she failed in the task she set out to do, no doubt she'd be the embarrassment of her family in the very least… but also the death of them at the worst. She had studied embroidery, poetry, dance, and even the oud. Her writing was as elegant as the famed princess of Agrabah, and she had been told she was as beautiful. However, her sources had been her father and brother, both of whom were putting pressure on her for their own reasons.

Her brother's mission was to capture the hand of the princess. Her own mission was to capture the hand of the prince. For their father, it would guarantee that one of his heirs would eventually inherit the throne of Agrabah if either of them succeeded. He was hoping for the position of Grand Vizier as well, which would effectively make him second in command. As their family was high-ranking nobility, and their military resources strong enough to single-handedly keep the enemies of Agrabah away, they seemed the logical choice for the royal family to marry into.

Or so, that's what her father hoped.

She had her own doubts, but at the sight of the glimmering city soaring above the dunes, she forgot it all. She'd never seen the city, and she'd never seen out of her own family manse. This was something new, something splendid, and it took her breath away. Not even the stinging of the sands could avert her gaze, and in that moment not even the moon could outshine the light of promise and excitement in her eyes.

"Remember, Aida. All you have to do is marry the prince. Father's practically got it all arranged. Don't mess it up." Came the gruff voice from behind her. Her brother stood there at the side of her convoy, forlorn as ever as he eyed the city. "We haven't been back since you were born… since mother. You'll have to grovel a bit. If the prince slights you, you're going to take it. But no matter what, don't forget: you're here to marry him."

She did wince, then. Her mind tried fled from the moment and the pain, her eyes set on the city and dreaming of the doors between her and her brother, her father. She dreamed of a prince that would find her as beautiful as her family claimed she was, a prince that would be her escape. "Don't mess this up for me, either." He released her then, stalked off.

His warning sung to her even as she went back to sleep. The caravan roused once more, they journeyed into the city.

She felt a flutter of apprehension flicker deep in her stomach. The entire day she had heard the voices of those in the palace spreading rumors about her. They were rather clear, and it didn't help matters. Two near-silent women had helped her dress in a swath of scarlet fabric lain with mother-of-pearl and glass beads. If they had noticed her pensive state, they said nothing. They only commanded her to turn once, then a second time as they prepared her hair and applied a bit of rouge to her lips. They set a few curls about her face, then covered her plait with cloth-of-gold. She was able to see herself briefly in the mirror, and that did give her a bit of encouragement. As she turned to thank the women, she noticed that they had already left.

"It is time. But first, let me see you." She knew that older, ragged voice. Her father. As she turned to meet his gaze she could see him looking over her as if he were scouring her. He then sighed, his hands moving to clench together behind his back. "Good as can be. You are beautiful enough, but some of the other girls here are prettier." He turned around to head out of the room, a silent cue for her to follow, so she did. "You are the richest girl here, though. Make sure he knows that."

"Yes, father." Was her reply.

He seemed unsatisfied as he walked past an open courtyard. "And charm him. Smile to him. Compliment him. Find something you both like to discuss. But above all, remember he is a prince. You may be rich, but that is not enough. There are others with their eyes set on him. They lie, they steal, they have many tricks and a lot of experience here already. You've been taught well, but now it's time to show what you can do. You. Cannot. Fail."

"I understand." She said.

A flank of guardsmen were rotating out of their shift, with six of them passing by. Behind them were a line of servants carrying a heavy supply of food for the kitchens. They stopped as her father yelled at them for blocking their path, which gave her a quick moment to look within the palace courtyard. A pleasant fountain was there, with a few women looking to her curiously before furiously whispering. Two men seemed to be debating something rather heatedly, one of which wore robes of emerald and the other of garnet. Whatever they argued about, the man in red did not let go of his position, though his tone never rose to shouting level like the other man's.

With the disturbance her father made, the man in the red robes turned to see the commotion. So startled was she to be looked at by another other than her family, she cast her eyes downward. For some reason, she felt embarrassed. Even as her father grabbed her arm and nudged her along, she kept her head down and followed behind him.

"Raise that chin. You're not a kitchen slut, are you?" Her father scowled.

She raised her chin and took in a deep breath. They had arrived now, with him stepping inside to begin introductions. Then the doors opened to let her in. Her eyes looked ahead, but she didn't see. She had dreamed so long of this moment, and now that it was here she felt herself concentrating so hard not to mess up, that she barely lived within it. The whisper of her dress against the smooth floor was far from her ears, and the sight of those gathered in the room were secondary as she looked to the royal family.

There stood the sultan with a graying beard, her father, and her brother. Next to them all was a man she did not recognize, and then there was another row of who she supposed were dignitaries. A blur of crimson moved past her peripheral vision and she heard a whisper in the background among that line. She disregarded it, and instead kept her eyes locked on her father.

"Sultan. This is my only daughter - Aida." Her father began the introductions. The sultan and him exchanged a look of warmth, a look she had rarely seen on her father. "Aida, I introduce you to the crown prince of Agrabah… Hakim."

She bowed to the sultan first, and having given her obeisance she would then turn to the prince himself. Before gazing upon him, she bowed once more. "Your highness… it warms my heart to meet you at last. I have long-awaited such a day to be worthy to finally look upon you. I am blessed to be in the presence of Agrabah's good and noble prince." She then righted herself to begin looking at him then, a smile at her lips and a blush at her cheek. Mentally she checked her posture, her footing, her pose. "I do hope we may get to know each other, if it please your highness." And then, she garnered her courage to look at the handsome prince of the kingdom.

He was handsome, indeed, but he was not smiling. Not even a little bit. Silently he looked at her, then looked to his father and spoke curtly. "I won't marry her. I am displeased." He then brusquely left their presence.

Her father tried to patch up the awkwardness by claiming her inept, unschooled, and she could practically feel her brother fuming. Her heart sank. "I am so sorry sultan, father, it is my fault…" She tried to cover. "I must have caused offense…"

It was the sultan who interrupted them both. "Hakim has been out of sorts lately. I would not be too hard on yourself. He only received the news he must marry fairly recently, and since then he has not been himself. Besides, we still have another introduction to make later this evening as court resumes. We will be having a gathering then, and a feast. Do come then, and do not worry."

Her family was ushered from the room, and the large doors shut behind them. The kindly intonation of her father disappeared as he commanded her brother to return her to the room. She winced once more as his hand gripped her arm forcibly. They passed by the same beautiful courtyard once more, and it was only when she had been locked away into her room that she remembered that the man in the red robes was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

It was time for the feast, and once more she found herself staring at a pair of doors. The bustling inside was a dull roar behind them, beckoning her to join in on the merriment. Finally there was a heavy rapping, silence, and the doors opened. A hundred, no, two hundred faces cloaked in finery looked up at her in mild curiosity.

This time she was far from nervous. The illusion of the prince her mind had conjured was now gone, and all that remained as duty. She stepped forward, now aware of the hems of her gold glistening dress she wore gliding down behind her on the steps. The cloth over her visage was now pinned at the chingon against her crown, the remainder of it falling back against her shoulders. Crushed pigment that resembled the shifting aura of the seashell had been placed to her eyelids, and kohl rimmed their dark depths of chocolate. Her tanned skin nearly seemed aglow from the lamplight in the room, and her frame was a sight to behold in the robes her father had bought for her reveal.

She stepped down, fearless. She kept her chin raised. As she completed her descent down the stairs there would be a polite bit of applause at first. She seized the opportunity to draw out her hands and to speak. "The moon herself is pale in compare to the luster and light of this court. May Agrabah forever be plentiful, may she always shine as she does tonight!" Some seemed genuinely surprised - for the verse she had quoted held reference to the poetry of the late Sultana herself.

They applauded politely, and she inclined her head once. She then strode to her father and brother as she had been instructed to do. The sultan had whispered something to her father, but then he turned to address the court with tears in his eyes. She smiled then, for it seemed her agony in picking out proper prose had paid off to be a fitting tribute. 'He must have loved the Sultana…' She thought, a soft smile on her lips.

The sultan's voice boomed throughout the courtyard. "Not since the death of our dear Sultana have we been blessed with so much beauty in this court… and today we have not one, but two women entering the court. You have met Aida of the Golden Talwar clan… and now, I welcome you all to meet my daughter, Jasmine."

The court was hushed as the princess came down the steps. Beauty was not something that could define Jasmine - for she was hands down a goddess in her own right. Her entire gown was a cool, languid blue with serpentine glass beads sewn throughout. Gold thread created waves on the fabric of her gown, and her face was pale as the moon itself. Thunderous applause resounded throughout and reverberated against the walls of the palace as Jasmine was received.

She, Aida, was now all but forgotten.

"I told you, sister. They are vultures here." Her brother sneered into her ear. He then strode forward with all semblance of good manner, clapping his hands together. "The jewel of Agrabah… Princess Jasmine, I am only of one clan, but surely all here see the light you have cast in this room, for your beauty is beyond compare."

The sultan laughed, then shook his head. "Jasmine, this is Hamad, brother of Aida. Their father is my vizier to the Golden Talwar clan… and they have been welcomed back to court after an extended leave." He waved his hand, his cheeks red from the drink of the evening. "You are just in time. I was just to ask your Aida if she would dance with your brother."

The court fell silent once more. As to why, she could not say… but there was an unsettling feeling about it. She looked to her father, and he simply nodded. Boldly, she would walk straight to the center where the prince was. He seemed to look through her, but not at her.

It was clear that the instructions her father gave her previously had been correct. He offered his arm, so she took it. He stepped back with her hand, so she bowed in deferment. He praised her beauty, and she praised his kindness and gentle manner. The music started. He began to dance, and so did she.

As they moved, so did the others around them. She smiled to him. "You are a good dancer, my prince. I wish I could dance with you all evening, if just to get to know you better."

He said nothing.

She flinched slightly, but tried again. This time she tried ditching the flowery lines she'd been told, and was a bit more honest. "I am truly sorry if our first meeting was awkward. I… well, it was awkward for me too. But what I said was true… I have been looking forward to our meeting for as long as I can remember." She offered another smile. As they turned together, she saw the strange man in red again. He seemed to watch her, though most of those who weren't dancing were watching them.

They turned once more in silence. She threw in another attempt, though things were looking quite dire. "I have never seen such a beautiful place as Agrabah, and I was so happy to come. I was born here, but we left shortly after my mother di-"

She watched him abruptly turn and walk away, leaving her alone. The entire court's eyes were on her as they continued to dance, and a wave of whispers begun. There was a hot flush at her cheeks, and she could feel her father's eyes burning at her back. Nonetheless, she kept her chin raised. She continued the dance moves for herself until the final chord of the song had finished. When partners bowed to each other, she turned and bowed in the direction of where the departed prince had gone. Her breath was stolen from her, but she forced herself to rise once more and keep herself together until she had moved into the opposite hallway from the courtyard.

Once alone, she exhaled. Tears of humiliation were hot in her eyes. She shook her head. 'I have to be strong. I have to be…' But no matter how she tried, she could not stop her tears. All of her life she had prepared for this, and everything seemed to be going wrong. Worse yet, she didn't know what she was doing wrong, either!

A couple of soft steps could be heard, but she did not piece that together right away. She leaned against the cool wall and braced herself for what was to come, fully expecting her brother or father to be there. She looked up, then gasped. One of the court was here, seeing her in her tears, and seeing her weak.

The man in the red robes.

He looked caught between a decision, though in the end no words ever came out of his mouth. His hand offered her a cloth crimson as the clothes he wore, motioning for her to dry her eyes. She did so, and he seemed to watch her for a moment. His expression seemed unreadable, though in the very least she could tell he was not disgusted by her crying. Something about his being there seemed to set her at ease.

After a few minutes, she had gathered herself. She looked to his eyes - she could not quite tell the color in the shadows of the hallway, but they seemed to be gentle. She smiled a bit, though he did not smile back. He moved to continue down the hallway, and she stepped forward once. 'Please…' She thought, not wanting that gentleness to leave her yet. The words would blurt out of her mouth before she could even think.

"You are kind, sir."

Those words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, then he glanced back at her over his shoulder. Their eyes met - a moment in which she clung to for dear life. She did not want to look away, for those eyes might be the only friends she'd ever know. Somehow, he seemed to linger for a moment as if to sate her curiosity. Finally he nodded once, then continued on his way back to the court.

She smiled for the first time that day as she held the kerchief in her hands. A first kindness in this place far from home, and home wasn't kind to her either. Was this in fact the first kindness she had ever known? The bit of cloth was furled into a small bundle between her knuckles as she headed back out to the feast.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

~Jafar~

Jafar had never been one much for dancing, for he preferred to watch, observe, and learn what others were doing. It was how he survived when he was younger, and it was how he survived now. The word was that the Grand Vizier position would be opening up soon, and his eyes were set on that. He would have that position no matter the cost, but he had his reasons.

He grew up in the markets, in the crooked doorsteps of the streets, in the half-rotted corners of hidden alleyways. He'd never known a mother or a father, and everything he had earned, he earned himself. He had studied magic, sorcery, healing, and alchemy. He taught himself to read, to calculate, and to write. He taught himself how to manage business affairs until his notoriety brought him to the palace itself. He had a low-ranking vizier position, but he worked hard and his efforts did not go unnoticed. Here he had a bit more wealth, but he was not a noble.

He would never be a noble, but perhaps his sons and daughters would be. It had all been a part of his planning and calculations to present himself as a suitor to Jasmine. The young woman was unorthodox to say the least, for even at a young age she spoke of changing the law to allow marriage to be with whomever she chose. Surely, she'd see the logic in their union - for in his time as even a low-ranking vizier, the trade had increased by a quarter & the orphanages were not nearly as overrun. He fought for the poor, he fought for less taxation, and he fought for a stronger defense of their borders to maintain the peace. If she married him they could show but the elite and the common people that they were indeed united.

He didn't particular have feelings for the girl, but she was undoubtedly beautiful and had a good head on her shoulders. He appreciated that, but he also understood that she was still quite young for marriage. She was only sixteen, and her father was already pushing her hard to accept a suitor by proxy to marry by eighteen. In his learnings, he felt a woman's body needed more time before she was ready to bear children safely, and he did not want Agrabah to lose a Sultana so quickly again. In that way, he wanted to protect her from being married off too early.

As Jasmine was introduced to the man Hamad, he frowned and watched him and his sister. He had been to the rather eventual initial encounter of the young woman and Hakim, and he witnessed the prince's displeasure. He supposed it was unfortunate for her to have come all this way, especially to a court that was bound to be harsh on her. Their family had not left in the best of pretenses, and no matter how much the sultan enjoyed the company of the Golden Talwar's head clansman… their departure shortly after the sultana's death would always be suspicious. From what he could tell, both Princess and Prince seemed privy for this information, for they looked less than enthused to be in the vicinity of the company of the Talwar clan.

For now, he put that aside in his mind and watched the brother as he spoke with Jasmine. He was purely speaking in floral terms and clearly doing his best to seem empathic to her. He seemed well-versed in chivalry, and something about Hamad rubbed him the wrong way. Inwardly Jafar rolled through a mental checklist of narcissistic symptoms as he observed their conversation. 'Every. Single. One.' He thought, then turned his attention to the girl.

What was her name again? Amalia? Aini? She seemed pleasant enough, a passable dancer, her posture was good, her bearing was good… overall, it seemed she was pretty, but not a great beauty. She was just a girl, it seemed. Nothing seemed terribly exciting about her, but he certainly couldn't see why the prince would be so disgusted by her on the surface level.

He turned his attention back to the brother and brought his drink to his lips. Jasmine was beginning to look a uncomfortable, and he had half a mind to go interject their seemingly one-sided conversation. However, he knew Jasmine well enough to know that when her threshold was reached, everyone in the court would hear it. It was best to let her handle it and stay out of it.

He was just about to turn back to find a seat when the sultan came over to speak with him. "Ah, Jafar… a wonderful night it seems… for love is in the air, and marriage to follow!" He beamed, crossing his arms and looking at his two children as they continued to be miserable. "You know, the say I am an excellent match-maker, and it occurs to me that you are unmarried, too!"

Jafar let out an uneasy chuckle, taking another sip of his drink. He looked to the sultan, then to Jasmine, then back to the sultan and shook his head. "There is only one who has my heart, sultan, and she's had it for years. I could not dream of another bride while I still have sights on another." He gave a wistful smile. "Even if it might not ever be."

The sultan sighed. "I know you understand, and I appreciate that you have such a tender care for Jasmine… but she has to marry a prince. I'm already considering bending the law slightly if it works out between her and Hamad." He clapped his hand onto Jafar's should. "Look, just see her. You might like her. What is her name of the lady I had in mind… oh! -Zahira? She's my groom's sister, well, she's of marriageable age and I think you would like her… pretty girl, and- oh… oh no."

Jafar had just been trying to grate through what he fully expected to be a terrible rambling about the girl the sultan thought he should marry when he and the sultan both observed the prince's quick departure. 'That girl is going to cry.' He thought, but he was surprised to see she did not. Even more - she kept dancing, even if by herself. "Your highness… Hamad doesn't seem to be himself."

The sultan sighed, and there was a bit of anger in his tone as he spoke. "I have tried talking to Hakim, but he doesn't want to hear of it. He refuses to marry her. But embarrassing her like this in front of the court is not a princely thing to do. Bring him back here at once. Tell him his sultan commands it."

He frowned. "As you wish, sultan." He would rather the sultan solve his own family problems, but perhaps a man-to-man chat would help… though he did not know the prince very well. This whole incident felt unnerving to him, and as he looked up he realized the girl was gone as well. Having not seen which direction either went, he chose to exit the courtyard with the hallway on the left. It was there that he heard a garbled, muffled voice and a gasp of pain. His hand went to the dagger at his side, and he leaned to the side of the shadowed wall to keep from being seen. As he neared, he recognised the form of the girl.

Caught so unexpectedly by this, he watched her for a moment as he decided what to do. Should he leave her to her privacy? Should he offer to help her? The girl remained there, her hands gingerly feeling her arms and trying to stop her tears. She was so soft that he could barely hear her, and he was almost close enough to touch her. It didn't feel right to see her like this, especially with her unaware of his presence, so he stepped out from the shadow. Words seemed to be at the tip of his tongue, but what could he say? He wasn't one who wanted to be involved in family affairs, and he had his own agenda to follow. He couldn't risk getting caught up in some other clan's plots, his only goals were the betterment of Agrabah.

In the very least, he could offer her a way to dry her tears. So he did. He held out a simple square of cloth. He said nothing. He did nothing else.

Light looked up at him when she saw him, a hope in her eyes. For the first time in his brief encounters of her presence, she seemed to look alive. She cautiously took the cloth from his hand and he could feel her own trembling. He waited a moment, then turned.

"You are kind, sir." That voice… it was soft, with a small and uneven vibrato in the lower pitches of her voice. Such was the difference between this voice and the one that proclaimed the beauty of the moon earlier, that he glanced at her once more.

She may have not said it, but her eyes did. She was thanking him, but for what?

He kept walking through the palace but to no avail. The prince seemed to have disappeared, which was… really annoying. He went back to the feast, but instead of entering the area proper, he watched from afar for clues. Finally after a few minutes, it all clicked. The prince wasn't the only one missing. There was a girl missing, too. A noblewoman, though she was a lesser noble. Her name was Dahlia, and her grandfather was the old Grand Vizier before her father fell from grace. Unless she married the prince, she may well be the last noble of her family as she had no brothers or sisters.

Dahlia loved the water, so Jafar headed to the other side of the palace with a view of the oceanside and looked up. There, he saw two figures huddled together three stories up against a balcony in the prince's quarters. He sighed. No wonder the prince had hated the new girl. Not only was he suspicious of her family in regards to his mother's death…

...but the Prince of Agrabah was in love.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

~Aida~

It was two days after the feast, and people were still talking about it. The princess was praised for her beauty, and Aida knew they whispered of her in poor form. She must've said something, she had to have displeased the prince. She felt as if there was something they knew that she did not, especially the two women who she recalled from the fountain on her first day.

She sighed, returning back to her needle work. Alongside her on the comfortable bedding was an expanse of silk woven onyx fabric with a bronze luster. Her father provided it, and she had been commanded to sew her next dress. This was not unusual as she was a capable seamstress - she typically made her own gowns. For now, she worked on the trim - laying chipped wheels of garnet beads against the embroidery work. It seemed all she saw lately was red, a strange thing. The color never had been one she thought to suit her, for it always seemed a bold and flashy color far beyond what she was brave enough to wear. She attached a length of the trim to the fabric and held it up to her shoulder. Her spare hand reached for the mirror, and she looked in curiously. She reminded herself to raise her chin, to look proud, but when she saw her reflection, she softened.

She recalled then the man in red. A small smile flickered at the curve of her lips. He was kind, even if quiet. She barely knew him, though she wondered why it was he couldn't have been the prince. 'He has better manners.' She then set down the mirror and resumed her work.

It wasn't until two servants came in to light her lanterns for the evening that she realized the time. Her stomach growled, and a flush of embarrassment graced her cheeks. "Excuse me? When and where is dinner held this evening?" She inquired. A small girl who looked a couple of years younger than her turned to face her, and upon realizing the other servant not would answer her, she sighed and did so. "It is in the sultan's dining chamber at the top of the hour, my lady."

Aida noticed the hesitant expression. She tried to offer her a kindly smile, her hand outreached. "If may retain you for a moment? The other girl is dismissed for now." She watched as the two girls nodded to each other.

The servant who spoke to her then turned to face her. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere else. "Am I in trouble, my lady?"

Aida frowned, but she had to know why everyone was treating her this way, but first things first. "No, of course not. What is your name?" She watched as the girl looked doubtful of her, then gave it.

"My name is Dalia."

Aida smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Dalia." She braced herself, for now she finally had an opportunity to get some answers. "I was wondering if maybe… there was something I was unaware of? At first I thought it was simply the court, but… everyone in the palace seems to hate me. But I don't know what I've done wrong. Is there any way I can mend things?"

The girl looked at her, and she seemed somewhat moved for a moment. Aida watched as her resolve returned to her eyes and they hardened again. "I'm sorry my lady, but I believe you ask the wrong questions of me. I am only a servant here."

She brought her hands into her lap and tried to remind herself of patience. Perhaps a simpler question would do. "Fair enough… of course. Perhaps you could tell me something else… maybe about the prince? Does he have a favorite color or food? Or song? Or poem?" Desperation was close at hand in her voice, and it was all that she could do not to sound emotional.

The servant thought for a moment. "He reads a book of the late sultana's poems in the library each evening. He likes blue, it was his mother's favorite color too." She then bowed and turned to leave. "I must go, my lady."

Aida rose to her feet. "Who is the man in red?" She watched as the girl turned back with a look of perplexion on her face before she exited the room. Once more, she was surrounded by silence.

Aida sat back down as the girl hurried off. Not long after, the same two older women from her first day would return to dress her. Her hair was pulled back at the crown before being adorned with her veil. The rest of her hair was left to tumble against her shoulders freely. Rings of gold her slid onto her fingers as two gowns were held up for her selection. "Blue please. Thank you." She stated. She could read the room - these women had no desire to speak with her. When they were done, she heard her father rapping his fist to the door.

Once more they would stride through the halls of the palace, this time with her brother joining them. Men sat on one side of the room to eat, with the women on the other side. The grand room was divided by a curtain, so from there she departed the company of her family to join the other women. They all seemed lively, with laughter and merriment filling the room. She offered a smile as she tried to find a place to sit, but each pulled away from her. They mostly seemed to look at her with disdain in their eyes. All of them, but especially the princess… who also wore the cloth of blue.

Her displeasure was clearly evident, but she seemed to realize all were waiting for her move. She motioned to Aida. "Welcome, Aida Talwar. Come, sit."

Knowing her place, she would sit beside the princess and offer her thanks. "You are too kind, Princess Jasmine. Thank you." She smiled to her as well, but a heavy silence hung in the air. None seemed to talk, and all seemed to listen to their exchange.

Jasmine's face was a mirage of kindness, though there was a coldness in her eyes. "We were just discussing the feast. I am sorry my brother seems to be… difficult." A few women sniggered, and she gave them a look of warning. Sighing, Jasmine continued. "It is not princely of him. He should at least get to know you. But we all know what he thinks… what do you think of the prince?"

She was not a fool - she knew this was a test. And in this case, she knew it was best to stick with a consistent story. One she would never deviate from, for her entire purpose depended upon it. She bowed her head. "I love him, and I understand him as best as I can. My entire life I wished nothing more to serve and be seen as pleasing by his highness. I have great sorrow to know that I have displeased in any way. I wish nothing but all happiness for our prince."

The woman beside Jasmine snorted. "How can you love him? You've just met."

Jasmine admonished her cohort, and it seemed to be sincere. "You're being unnecessarily cruel… she is new to this, that is clear."

Aida felt a bit of reprieve then. At least the princess seemed to be somewhat on her side, though her father's words of warning had her wary. "It is true we have just met, but I have heard of him for as long as I can remember. I fell in love from afar, and on seeing him I love once again. Did he not learn to ride a horse at the age of five? Did he not master the spear and curved blade by fourteen? Did he not once donate his annals to a school of learning in Agrabah? And does he not to this day still favor his mother's color?"

Jasmine's face hardened, and the room grew cold. 'I've said something wrong again…' Aida thought. Jasmine finally spoke. "Ah, that's why you are wearing that color. Well, it's a wasted effort. The prince won't see you tonight. He did not come to dinner." She feigned a smile. "Well, marriage is often difficult. Here is hoping you hold enough love for both of you."

The phrase clung to her mind, even after the princess turned away to resume her earlier conversation. She sat there, trying her best to make small talk. It was impossible since none seemed to want to talk with her. She could hear the men carousing and laughing as they had their drink of the evening, and she could smell the food coming out of the kitchens. It was far more than they could ever eat, with plate after plate splendidly displayed before its return, and she frowned. Finally, she turned to the princess. "What happens to the rest?"

Jasmine paused her conversation and plastered a polite expression on her face as she turned to Aida. "Of what? ...Oh, the food? It is disposed of, I assume. Why?"

Aida raised her chin. "I would like to have it." There was a pause in the room as the women looked at each other incredulously, then laughter rang throughout the place. She narrowed her eyes. "Not for myself…"

Jasmine raised her hand, silencing them. "Then for who?" She asked.

'Keep your chin raised' her father had said. "There are poor, even in the beautiful city of Agrabah. I'd like to coordinate an effort to donate any leftover food to them." She then took this moment to speak directly to the women in the room. "I know that I am not welcome. I am sorry if I have done anything to offend. However, while I sit in this palace, I'm not going to sit here doing nothing. I would like to do something helpful to Agrabah's people. It is the least I can do."

Jasmine looked about her, then gave a small nod. "Very well, then."

She was no longer hungry, so she used this opportunity to excuse herself. "I will inquire about it now. Thank you, princess." She offered a smile, then rose to leave.

As she entered the hallway, she couldn't resist the urge to peek into the men's dinner. She moved the curtain aside to see the sultan surrounded by his son, viziers, and other nobles. They sipped from cups of gold lain with stones that stone under the lamplight. She smiled at the sight of her father and brother - for once, they looked quite happy.

"One should not be spying. It is considered rude." Came a low, soft voice from behind. The tone was gentle, but it was flat - as if bored. She turned around to face the man in red once more.

"...You!" She exclaimed, then pointed to him. She watched as he took one more step closer to her before glancing down at her protruding finger.

"Pointing is also considered rude." He replied.

She was sure to have looked flustered as she yanked her arm back down. "You startled me. But it is a happy coincidence…" She sobered somewhat, looking up at him with a bit of sheepishness. "I wanted to thank you."

The man had dark that mirrored her own, she could see that now in the better light. He stood nearly a head taller than her, and she surmised his form was of average lean in the swath of robes he wore. One dark brow rose as she mentioned her wish to thank him. "Thank me?"

She reached for the tucked away bit of fabric. The square of crimson lay in her hands. "For this, and I meant to return it to you. I asked a servant your name, but she said that she didn't know of a noble in red."

He bristled slightly, and she worried that she had somehow caused him offense as well. She was wrong though, for his hand closed over hers to signal that she keep the cloth. "My name is Jafar. I'm not a noble, just a vizier of trade here." His voice seemed slightly strained at the last line, and his hand pulled away.

A full smile spread quickly across her face. "I am Aida, heiress of the Golden Talwar. It is nice to meet you." She could feel the warmth of his hand still against hers even after it left. "Why are you not at dinner?" She asked.

Jafar shrugged. "Social climates have never been my forte. I go where I need to be, but I'd rather be at work. There is much to be done for Agrabah."

She beamed as she piped up, "I was just saying the same thing to Princess Jasmine!" That seemed to get the man's attention as he looked at her with mild interest. "I saw how much food was prepared, both tonight and at the feast. I am actually headed to the kitchens to arrange that the remainder of it go to those who are in need of it."

He motioned for her to follow. "I'll go with you. I know who you need to speak with. Also, if you're looking for an institution to donate to, consider the orphanage on the far east of the city. They are further from both the port and the palace, so they could use the aid more. Most of the donations are given to the one closer to the palace. The madame there would be most appreciative."

She followed behind him, listening intently. It did not escape her notice that this was her first, full conversation with someone who didn't appear to despise her, and it was as if a burden had been lifted off her shoulders. 'If only the prince acted the same… things wouldn't be so hard.' She thought. She missed his word of warning about a chipped step ahead, though, and nearly lost her balance.

She felt the warmth of his hand again on her arm, far more gentle than any other touch she'd known…. But the flesh was still bruised under the cloth of her garment. She winced, a small whimper coming from her throat. Just as soon as his hand moved, she heard him apologize. "I am sorry. I wanted to make sure you didn't fall. I didn't think I grabbed you that hard."

She felt her arm - still sore and raw from her brother's manhandling of her, she looked up to him and shook his head. "It's alright. You didn't hurt me. I hurt myself the other day." She blinked, then realized how it sounded. "I mean, I tripped the other day… and injured my arm."

"Someone should look to see if you have sprained it if it still hurts like that. You might need a cool compress or further treatment." He asked, though now his hands remained at his sides.

She shook her head. "It'll go away on its own. I fall a lot…" She then realized he was looking at her as if scrutinizing her more carefully than she'd like. "It's alright. I suppose I am a klutz, my brother has always said so." She tried to laugh it off.

He shrugged, resuming the stride toward the kitchens. "I have seen you dance, and if I recall… you don't seem to be a klutz." It was evident he knew something was odd, but understood that he was not to press the matter. "I do not like to get involved in the affairs of the royal family, but let me offer some unsolicited advice. You have a hard task ahead of you, but you're surely gathered that. What you need to know is that it is very easy to be killed here. Your family has many enemies. You have to start making allies at court. I know you are trying, but start small and work your way up. You will never be one of them, but you can control the harm they do to you if you stay smart about it."

She was shocked, for this man was now helping her a second time. "If everyone is my enemy, then why are you helping me?"

"It is common knowledge that I have loved Princess Jasmine for years, but I am not a noble. Even though I've been in the palace as a boy since she was born, that we once played together as children… I am forbidden from marrying her. But if the sultan allows the prince to marry a noble and not a princess for once… then perhaps there is hope for me." He paused, looking at the door ahead of them. "So, I am motivated for my own reasons. Everyone here is."

He motioned to the door. "Ah, the kitchens. Salim is the man in charge. He would help you make arrangements. I must return to dinner. Watch your step in the halls, Aidana."

"It's Aida…" She said, but he strode off as she spoke. She cleared her throat and called to him again. "Jafar…"

He paused reluctantly. "Yes?"

She smiled at him, a sincere look. "I keep saying this, but… thank you."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

~Jafar~

There was a lot of work to be done, and today was no exception. There were quite a few meetings to attend, and one of which was left unpleasant with the angered nature of the head of the Talwar tribe. Such an issue he poised, that he left Jafar with no choice. He met with the sultan and plead his case for him to iron out the issues with the prince. After all, the Talwar family were rich, wealthy, and harnessed the power of half of their army. If they broke away from Agrabah, they would be open to attack. The sultan was more inclined to marry Jasmine to Hamad, but Jafar plead against that was well.

"She is too young. She needs more time, sultan." Jafar said in earnest.

The sultan shook his head. "Her mother and I were wed when we were fourteen. We did not consummate the marriage until we were both eighteen. Hamad and Jasmine can actually hold a conversation, and I have yet to see Hakim even speak more than a single line towards the Talwar girl… what was her name again?" He waved his hand. "It doesn't matter. Hakim and Jasmine, it must be."

Jafar frowned at this. "That is not going to be enough. You know what her father wants. There is a good chance the army will be depleted if Hakim is not married to that girl. He's already insulted her twice in front of the entire court, and you are testing her father's patience. Look…" He paused, locking eyes with the sultan. "If your son knows marriage is imminent, then he will know it is time to get in line. And at least that girl will have the status of a betrothed to protect her somewhat. You know the rumors. You know who started them. You've got an innocent and witless girl sitting in a lion's den with the rest of our kingdom to be slaughtered by an outside army while your son flakes off on his duty!"

The sultan didn't speak, and for a moment he thought that might be the end. But strangely, the sultan then turned away. "I loved their mother, you know."

Jafar sighed. "I know."

"She was a kind woman, and she was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. The Talwar family had nothing to do with it, he claims, and I believe him. I understand the love of the people and the love of the court. I understand their view. Of course, it is also a shame how Hamad's mother died as well. A terrible tragedy, indeed." He was solemn as he recounted the past. "So it is hard for me to tell Hakim what to do, especially in knowing the nature of his bride-to-be's mother's death. And he's a smart boy, he knows."

Silence remained in the air for a moment, and finally Jafar spoke. "Perhaps we could start small. No marriage then. A promising conversation. Or even just a conversation. But until that happens, I would suggest all of their interactions be away from both the court's eyes and that girl's father. If he continues to insult her, you may lose your chance to retain her tribe."

The sultan thought upon it, then nodded. "A wise idea, that. I shall arrange the meeting." He moved over to his desk and sat down. Turning the page in the book, he'd look up at the young vizier. "You are dismissed, Jafar. Thank you."

His long stride brought him to the courtyard - where the princess had one hand in the fountain. She flicked her fingers from side to side to send small pearls of water to rain back down against the glassy surface. Her face showed a carefree look, and her figure was relaxed in the bold blue of her mother. He smiled at the sight of her. They hadn't conversed in some time, so he began by getting her attention.

"Wash away, my sun, wash away. Hide behind the curtain of the clouds above, and rain your blessings down upon the earth of my soul. Only when I am soaked to the last atom might your light blanket my every breath, and with every breath I pledge my love to you." He recited.

Jasmine gasped, looking up. She then held a puzzled expression on her face before chuckling. "Jafar? I don't recognize that one. Who wrote it?"

He smiled, staying a pace away from her, his hands casually interlocked behind his back. "I did." As he watched bewilderment cross her features, he looked away as if to feign a bit of embarrassment. "I wrote it for the one I pray each day will be my future wife."

She gave a look of forlorning, then shook her head. "I'm too young to get married, Jafar. Also, your poetry is awful."

"I agree. And I told your father that myself. Well, about the marriage, not my terrible poetry."

She laughed at first, then shook her head. "It's not that simple. It is complicated." She huffed slightly, bringing a hand to smack down against the water lightly. "That family. They have made everything complicated. Father was going to wait a bit longer until that family came." Jafar knelt before her, looking up into her eyes.

"Princess, I have loved you since we were both children. I know you don't return my affections, but I promise to one day earn them from you. Until such a time, I will always protect you. I won't let that fool marry you. You'll be free, free to marry whomever you choose."

She looked away, though she gave a small nod. "And if I never want to marry you?" She asked.

Jafar got up, extending his hands at either side in a surrender. "Then I never marry. I die in love with the same woman for all of my life." He dropped his hands. "I came from nothing, and so one day if that is what is your will, I will once more be nothing."

Jasmine rolled her eyes, pushing him playfully. There was an awkward laugh between them both, then she looked up at him as she slumped her shoulders. "You're so melodramatic at times. You've been that way since Father took you in." She laughed as he appeared to be as if wounded, a hand gripping at his heart. "It's true… you act as if none other will love you. But there are some girls who look at you. I've seen it."

He shook his head. "Yes… but none of them are you, Princess. They are nothing." There was a twinkle in his eye, and she laughed again. It hovered - a bell-like sound at her lips, and the brightness of the day flooded the courtyard. Finally, she sobered slightly.

"What of that new girl… the Talwar girl? Some say she is passably beautiful. But others say you've actually talked to her." She frowned up at him, looking to him suspiciously. "What game are you playing with her?"

He was surprised to hear this - was the princess jealous? Either way, this would not do for his plans, and there was nothing for her to be jealous about. "Ah, yes. I talked to her. Someone has to, and your brother has not been doing a good job of that." He sat down at the fountain, his eyes looking up to the second story of the veranda above them. "She is pretty enough, but not very bright. I don't expect her to last a year here."

She gazed ahead, somewhat lost in her thoughts. "I almost feel sorry for her. But then I remember… her mother. She's exactly like her, if I recall. They all start innocent enough, but things change. My brother tells me every day." She looked to Jafar. "People change."

"At the end of the day, people do everything for the same reason, just in their own way." He responded. "For love." At Jasmine's laugh, he grinned. "It's true… until you return my affections, Agrabah is my wife."

"So you've… never?" Jasmine raised a brow.

"Never." He stated, shaking his head.

She started laughing, "Forgive my amusement, I suppose it is hypocritical of me. Father will kill me if he knew I ever even looked at a boy with interest. But you have more freedom than I, and you've never… not even some kitchen girl?"

Jafar looked to her seriously. "Never. I have no need." He brought his hands together, palms flat against each as he thought over his words. "Jasmine…"

She seemed to realize the seriousness of his tone, and looked up at him.

"I do mean it. If you were to simply marry by my proxy, we wouldn't need to rush. I will give you all the time you want. All of the freedom you desire. You'll be free of the Talwar bastard, and for anything I can do to help you, I will. Let me protect you."

Jasmine's eyes were soft, but she remained steadfast to her position. "You are probably the only suitor I've had that spoke so sincerely… but I cannot. You can't protect me, you're only a vizier. If I accept this proposal, you'll be dead by morning."

"And if I'm Grand Vizier? Second only to your father in the entire kingdom?"

Her eyes widened.

"Think on it, then. Speaking of… I remembered. I have a visit to make on the other side of town. Two, actually." He rose once more, and inclined his head to the princess.

She offered her hand, and he bent down to kiss it. "I will see you soon, my love." He heard her scoff, taking her hand back with a laugh. "In your dreams, Jafar!" He left her with a chuckle, but as he left he looked back at her.

She was still smiling at him.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

~Aida~

Her father glared at her. "You dare ask more of me? Haven't you done a good enough job messing up things as it is?" He ranted.

She bit her lip for a moment as she calculated how to ask this. "I think it may very well work, Father. He knows we are rich. He knows what I look like. I'm simply asking for a stipend to put to use. I have a plan." She stated a second time, just with different wording from before.

Jafar had told her to start small, and that was her plan. After many pleas, her father finally listened. She was granted an allowance daily for a month. He gave her a lump sum for the first week in the first day, and from there she went to work. A bit of gold was under a note lain on her desk for the girl Dalia. She would dress well, for glamour was part of her idea. Her gown and her veils were black and red, with stones sewn into the hems that would catch the light of the sun. She wanted the people to see her, to see her wealth of both her heart and her purse, and it was best her father didn't know of that part of it until it was after the fact.

She headed down into the kitchens to make the arrangements for the previous day's uneaten food to be packed for transport. She then headed to the stables to request bearers. While she was waiting, she heard the rapping of knuckles against the wooden door frame.

"Pardon, Lady Talwar."

It was that low voice, the one that spoke of gentleness. She looked up to him and smiled brightly. "Ah, Jafar!" She cried out. "I did not expect to see you here."

He rest his frame against the door, his arms crossed casually. "I decided to escort you to the orphanage. I am bringing some men to keep the both of us safe as well. The streets can be dangerous."

She nodded. "Oh, I'm glad you're coming then! I am always glad to have your company." She felt the smile now absolutely infectious, and she couldn't shake it away. The bearers came and lifted them in the palanquin promptly with him assisting her, and off they went on their way.

It was only a half an hour before they reached past the gates of the palace, and she looked over to the man seated beside her more carefully. He was tall, near-lanky almost… but he had a good bearing about him. She decided his lips were his best feature, for he always spoke in kindness to her. As she looked to him in this closer proximity, she could more fully tell that his eyes were a dark brown that mirrored her own. As they made a light conversation, she felt the bruising and pain lift away. It was only once they reached into the market proper that she tentatively ordered the bearers to stop.

She could sense Jafar watching her in curiosity as she stood up cautiously on the somewhat shaky surface. The market was bustling, with some small children chasing each other through the waves of the crowds. One girl burst from the hustle to bump against the side of a bearer, the man threatening to cut off her hand. "Stop." Aida exclaimed loudly.

The entire market stopped.

She looked about to all of the faces, all of them, but first she looked to the little ones. Behind her, she heard Jafar say lowly, "My lady?" She bit her tongue. 'I don't even think he knows my name, but I have not forgotten what he has said.' She thought before responding, "Start small."

"People of Agrabah… I am the lady Aida of the Talwar tribe. I have been away, even though it has pained me to do so. Like you, I feel the mocking of the nobles who look upon me with disdain, though I have done them no wrong. My family has given them more than our fair share, but like you we have gotten nothing in return. We have all lost, and it has been enough."

She paused there, and she felt exhilarated. No one had left her yet, and all eyes were on her. Moreso, for once she was being listened to!

"I am only one noble, though I am outcast like you. However, the day of us being outcast is over. We are the true nobility of Agrabah. So from now on I pledge all of my personal income to be devoted to you.

I will cook my own food, and I will invite all to dine with me.

I will wear only the clothes I make, and I will use any fabric left to sew clothing for our orphanages.

I will have no possessions, only borrow, save for one. I keep only to a single red square of cloth, for it was given to me in kindness. All else obtained by my title or by coin I now renounce and instead give to you."

She leaned down as a bearer helped her off of the palanquin. She began to distribute her alms - a small gold coin in the hand of each child she saw, first. Then the women. Then the elderly. The lame and the crippled. She looked into each of their faces with kindness, hugged all of those who offered it. To each little girl she'd ask their name, and each boy she'd ruffle their hair. When she'd given her last coin she would return to the side of the bearers, but she did not return to her seat.

"Now, I walk. Tell me, people of Agrabah… will you join me?"

A cheer went up in the back of the crowd… with the sound of the young children crying out in joy first. "Princess Aida!" They called out. "Princess Aida!" She blushed, and then glanced up at Jafar. A little girl burst forward and held her hand.

She saw him sigh, and then get down from the lift. "You're starting to make me look bad, you know." She smiled wryly, watching the bearers move ahead of them. Together they walked. "It's roughly three miles to the orphanage in this sun. Are you sure about this?"

She mused over this. "How many miles would the orphans there have to walk in order to get to food?"

Jafar frowned. "Three miles."

She smiled at that. "Then let those who are crippled use the bearers. We walk." She extended her hand to him. "Please?"

The sound of joy that erupted from the orphanage was unlike any she'd ever heard before. By the time she was done, she'd promised to have bought a toy for each child there for her next visit. Even with the people of the market who followed along, they all seemed to come together. She picked up a broom and began to sweep, with others following her lead. In a couple of short hours, the chores of the orphanage were done and the entire place clean.

As the crowd eventually ebbed away, she would walk through the place and make some observations. Through it all, Jafar was by her side, though he said little. He was kind enough, though there seemed to be something on his mind. It wasn't long until he made it clear what it was.

"I see your plan… it is a good one, but there are some issues with it."

She stopped, and then looked up at him. "Plan?" She said. "To help others? How is that a plan?"

He stepped closer to her. "By starting small. You started with the small folk. The children. Since the nobles have turned against you, you have created a following of your own. That helps you outside of the palace. If you keep to your word, they will adore you. They will pressure the prince to go through with the marriage. But you still have a problem inside of the palace. You have no allies there, and no friends. This is dangerous for you."

She in turn stepped to him, then closing the gap until they could nearly reach out at touch each other. "Do I not have friends in the palace? What of Jafar? You? Are you not my friend?" She looked up to him, desperation clear in her eyes.

He sighed, seemingly unable to meet her gaze. "It is not that simple." He scuffed the tip of his shoe at a pebble on the ground before kicking it away. His stride resumed, but then he paused. "I love the princess. I wish nothing more than her hand. And you love the prince. You wish nothing more than his hand. It is true we could work together to obtain our initial objectives, but it's not simple once you add Jasmine and her brother to the equation. They both want their mother's death to be avenged. If you marry Hakim, their mother's death was for nothing. As I wish to be at Jasmine's side, that means I must be on her side in these matters. If we both succeed, there will be a struggle for succession in the future. Jasmine has fully intended to battle for the throne since she was a child, and her brother fully believes it is his right to be sultan. This means if we both marry those we love, eventually we will be enemies."

She held her breath, and her face grew warm. "Oh." Was all she managed to say softly. A moment passed, and then she said smally, "I don't want us to be enemies."

He could not meet her gaze. "You have a good heart, Lady Aida. Let's hope it never comes to that. Agrabah has seen enough pain already." He looked around a moment. "I lived here once, when I was a boy. It was only a couple of months before they ran out of room, and I lived in the streets. But they tried to help me, they just didn't have much. It taught me to rely on myself, and in turn even though it was hard, it shaped me into who I am today. So, I will always have a soft spot for this place. I try to come when I can."

She was moved to hear him say her name at last, but this was overshadowed by his confession. "You were an orphan?" She stepped forward, and without thinking of it… she lay her fingertips against his arm. "I am sorry." She shook her head, as if to try to explain once more, though her hand remained on his arm. "For everything. For your difficulties, for your pain… you don't deserve to be alone."

He shrugged, then looked down at the hand on his forearm. "Sometimes family is a worse thing. A happy childhood is a lucky thing."

She could commiserate with that, though the look he gave her hand had her sheepishly withdraw it from his arm. "Agreed. Mine… was less than happy."

"I know.."

She rose a brow. "Wait, you know? What do you know?"

He would say lowly, "I know that they beat you."

She was stunned.

"It happens more than you think in the palace. It's still not right." He stated. "But circumstances and objectives aside, far as I can tell you are a good girl, and you deserve better than that. So start to use what you can get. Start armoring yourself. If you play it right, eventually they will never be able to hurt you again. Power is closer to you than you think." They continued to walk in silence, and she wondered again why it was fate that the prince couldn't be more like this man instead. Even if he denied their friendship, she vowed to remain his friend. They arrived at the door, and the bearers were gone. He gave her a pointed look before beginning the look walk back to the palace, and she laughed.

She smiled at that. "You're helping me again, you know."

He still did not look at her, but he smiled a bit. "I know."

It was when she finally returned to her room that she realized the difference. There was a skip in her step, and a smile on her face. She hardly shut the door behind her when she collapsed into her bed. A cry of joy came out as she flipped over to her back. She was happy. For the first time, she was so happy!

Hearing the crowd cry out for her in a joy was exhilarating. She was addicted to aiding, to helping, to embracing her bravery for the sake of others. And on top of that… despite what he said, wanted to believe she had a true friend in the man named Jafar.

The fingers plunged into her sleeve as she drew out the square of his red cloth. She kept it half-hidden in her palm, her fingers tracing its edges. Twice he had assisted her, and she had even seen the color of his eyes. She found herself wondering once more why the prince himself couldn't be of good manners like him. It seemed a pity… and she found herself now wondering how she could ever repay his kindness. She tucked the cloth back inside of her shirt before closing her eyes, and drifting off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

~Aida~

She awoke to a room now dark, and the doors opening. Her sleepy eyes made out a figure bathed in the flickering light of the lamp entering and bringing the room back into the light. A languid smile curved Aida's face as she recognized the servant.

"Dalia… good evening!" She called to her, hoping to stop the girl before she darted out. She would look over to the desk and see the coin she'd left her was still there. Aida rose to get it, and bounded over to her, placing it in her hand. "I left this for you. I wanted to say thank you."

The servant flinched away, dropping the coin. "I don't want it. That's blood money."

Aida blinked. "I don't understand…"

"I'm sorry my lady, but I don't want money. I especially don't want that money." She retorted.

Aida steeled herself in patience, "Alright. No money then. But I'd like to thank you somehow. What is it that you want?"

The servant girl thought it over. "I'd like to serve Princess Jasmine."

Well, that much was obvious, but the girl continued.

"It is said that if you serve Princess Jasmine, you are practically royalty around here. You get the best food, the best clothes, and she protects you. But instead I serve you. And I get funny looks every time I get here. One of the guards threatened to beat me the other night. And I was told that under no circumstances to talk to you, but here I am getting into trouble because you wish for it, my lady. And now you're trying to give me blood money, too. They'll take my head for that."

Aida pursed her lips together, taking in a deep breath, then letting it out. "You're right. I knew that I wasn't well received here, but I didn't realize that extended to you as well. That's not fair, and I can understand your position better now. So thank you for telling me. However, there is still something I do not understand. Why is the coin I give called blood money?"

The servant shook her head vehemently. "You should ask the prince that… if he'll tell you. They will kill me if I tell you."

Aida grew frustrated. "Who is 'they'?!"

The servant stepped back. "The court. They control everything here. Don't you know that? You shouldn't have come, they'll kill you. Please, don't ask me anything more!" She darted from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Aida shook from head to toe in a mixture of fear and anger. "It is the prince, then. He has to be the one behind this. He plays behind the scenes… very well. I must begin to take Jafar's advice."

The moon was bright that night, with her beams streaking into the old library. Only a single light shone from a lamp on an antique, elaborately carved desk. Hakim read over the aged tome, occasionally turning a page and reading each verse fully. He'd pause, look up, and reflect on the words. His eyes would widen when he saw her.

Aida watched his reaction as he seemed to realize that they were indeed alone. She had been sent for by the sultan himself to converse with his son in private. Unbeknownst to him, she had a plan already, one her father would likely not approve of. Again.

"My prince." She bowed. "I apologize for the intrusion." He seemed to be so shocked, that he did not get up… yet. She was clad in the blue garment from the dinner a few days prior, the one he had not seen her in, and the one Jasmine warned her against. She intended to send a clear message, and she closed the distance until she stood before the desk. "Mind if I sit?" She asked, but not waiting, she would take a seat in the backless stool across from him.

"Your father sent me here. My father does not know." She started with that, and could see curiosity in his eyes. "I understand that you do not want to marry me. I do. And at the same time, I am doing what I've been told to do. I have been raised solely to love you, as my husband. In that love I recognize that it is not returned. So how do we rectify this? Or the better question is… how do we rectify this without bloodshed?"

He considered her for a moment. "Snake's words. Your family spilt the first blood. I could never marry you."

She shook her head. "I do not know what you mean. This is my first time in Agrabah since I was a child. We haven't been here to cause any spilt blood..."

"Your father killed my mother."

She gasped. Heavy air hung between them both, and she shook her head. "No… no, that cannot be true. If he had, he would've been executed!"

He looked down at the tome he held open with his hand. "My father believes your father to be innocent, but it's here. In my mother's diary, it's clear as day." He slammed the book shut and sat back in his seat, his hand remaining over the cover of the book. "I have told him to read for himself, but he refuses to. That's what he does with any difficult situation… he ignores it. He does nothing, and hides it away hoping it'll go away on its own."

Aida mulled this over, then she spoke. She spoke softly, gently as she could. If the prince was actually opening up to her about this, maybe there was a chance. "I was not there. I cannot say what my father did or didn't do. You could be right. I could be wrong." She reached her hand forward tentatively, slowly, until her fingertips grazed his. "But I am not my father. We cannot help the families we are born into or their pasts, but we can change for the future." She whispered softly, "Please."

The prince seemed to look at her for the first time. He fully looked over her and considered her words for a minute. Then he withdrew his hand. "You are not your father. Not yet. I don't know what the future holds. But I still can't marry you." He said.

"I love someone else."

She looked down at her lone hand, but she kept it offered to him. Thinking on his words, she shook her head, a breathy sigh escaping her lips. "I... I want to try." She couldn't believe her own words that came from her mouth, but she was desperate. "If we were married, you could still see her. I will help keep your secret. I'm trying here, Hakim, please."

He did seem to think over her words, so she continued.

"If we had one child, one son... then you'd be free to do as you wish. I've wanted nothing more than to be a mother. I would be happy to take care of our child and to respect your heart and your feelings for... whoever she is."

He then looked up at her. He seemed to look over her appearance fully for the first time – her hair, her eyes, lips, her frame. He then motioned she stand up. She was surprised by this, but she did. He got up from the desk, and moved behind her. The silence unnerved her, and suddenly she felt him pressing her forward to be bent over the desk. His hands pinned her wrists down as she gasped beneath him. "Wha-"

"And what if I just put a child in you now, an umarried noblewoman?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I'd be executed..." She bit out, and just as soon as she had, he released her. He stepped back, shaking his head in disgust as he retook his seat.

"Yes. So knowing that, why the hell would I do that to the woman I love?"

She trembled, drawing back from the desk to stand. Tears welled up in her eyes, though she refused to let them fall. "It seems blood will be shed, then."

The prince gave a half smile. There was a heavy remorse in his eyes, though not for her, but for the kingdom, she would surmise. "The only question is… whose."

She got up, smoothing her skirts as she rose. 'I cannot leave and seem weak. He has made his decision. My brother was right about one thing - I cannot appear weak.' She thought, then spoke to the prince in departing, her eyes flashing with anger and her chin raised in defiance.

"If it is mine… you will have all of Agrabah's blood on your hands." She left the room, leaving the prince to muse softly. His words haunted her ears as she left.

"There's your father."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

~Jafar~

It had been two months since the arrival of the Talwar clan, and things remained tense. Jafar used the distraction as a chance to study up on a new talent: a shape shifting sorcery. He doubted that he would get far with it, but he figured it was worth a shot since he was growing a bit burnt out on his other studies. After a bit of perusal in the topic, he found he quite enjoyed simple tricks. So much was his delight in causing ripples in the surface of water, or a small breeze, that he continued his path. Soon he could create a glow within jewels as well, and finally satisfied, he'd grab the jewelry before rising to his feet. Even being able to control small things such as these was delightful to him.

With the advancement of the Talwar tribe, he knew he had to act faster than he wished. As much as he would've liked to have waited, not even Jasmine would be able to get out of this predicament. It was time for him to do something more direct. He strode towards the Princess's quarters, and requested to a servant that he wished her audience for a brief moment.

She opened the door, beautiful as ever, her younger eyes looking up to his older ones. She had been crying, though she had taken pains to hide that fact before opening the door. "Jafar?"

He nodded solemnly, inclining his head. "I am sorry to disturb you. I came hoping to cheer you."

She was honest with him, shaking her head and snorting once. "No… no I mean…" She softened slightly. "There really isn't anything that can help me. It's happening. Brother refuses to marry, so I am first. I think the proxy is in a couple of days."

Jafar nodded, offering his arm. He was surprised as she in fact, took it. "I thought your father would have more sense than to do that." He led her to the gardens - her favorite place, he knew. The air was heavy with the scent of rose, and the fig trees were in bloom.

Jasmine was cold as they stepped to the fountain. "Your friend is not helping matters. The people call her a princess, and she is not even engaged to my brother yet. If you truly want to help me, start telling me what she has planned." She plucked a rose from a bush somewhat angrily, tearing one petal off at a time until none remained.

Jafar was taken aback by her accusation, but his eyes were transfixed on her fingers as they tore at the rose. "Jasmine, I really don't know. I've talked to her… twice, I think? The last time was months ago. That is hardly a friendship." He stopped, looking at her. His hands rest on her shoulders, giving all the care as he could offer. "I can tell you this, though. She is not your enemy. Her father is. Her brother is. You have a possible ally in her depending on how this plays out and if she survives her first year here. But even more importantly…"

He looked about, remembering where they played tag about this fountain so long ago. He remembered the time they fell asleep by the tree, just over there, their heads resting against each other's. He enjoyed her companionship, her wit, and her beauty. She was the closest person to him in this place, and he could nearly be honest with her. He simply did not love her, not in a romantic way… and yet, he may nearly call her a friend. Now was the moment. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't befitting her, but another moment may not come. This may be his last chance.

The glimmers of light darted under the waters of the fountain. It took her a moment, but then she saw them. She gasped and dropped the rose stem from her hands, reaching to touch the waters. Small globes of light rose about them, and a breeze brushed against her cheek.

He turned back to her. "Jasmine." He stated, holding out the rose to her. It was white, pure, untouched and once more with its petals. "You have more power than you think. You can stop the Talwar family's plan with you in a single word. I can protect you. I swear it. This is only the beginning of the power I have, and even if you wish to cancel the proxy later, that is alright. But accept me now, and you will be safe. Please." He knelt, an awkward movement for him, his hands offering a golden carved bangle that shone brightly under the lights. The center stone sparkled - an opal, flashing under the moonlight. "Consent to become my betrothed."

There were tears in her eyes. "I cannot." She let loose a shaky breath. "They will kill you. Brother has told me."

Jafar stood up sharply, the flower once more dropped and forgotten, then took her by the forearms with care and earnest. "No, they will not! You have to trust me! I have a plan!" He then told her - everything, all he wished, all he desired, all of it. At its end, Jasmine slumped down to sit at the fountain, dazed.

"You… would do that for me?" She said, after a long silence.

He nodded, and for the first time since he was a child, he sunk to his knees. It was difficult for him, but the circumstances needed it, and he knew it. He let go of his own pride for that moment – for everything depended on her answer. "I can't let you marry that bastard. I don't beg, Jasmine, but I do now. Please."

Jasmine's eyes hardened as she thought over her options, then she looked back up to Jafar. "Then I accept your proposal."

As he headed back to his quarters, he was ecstatic! She had said yes! Granted, it was not in the way he had initially hoped, but enough to get the process going. So focused he was on his victory, that he almost strode smack into a blur before him.

"Jafar…" Came her soft voice.

He looked down at her, the young Talwar lady. He watched as she smiled, how her eyes light up at the sight of him. He inwardly groaned. This innocent girl still thought of him as her friend, as much as he tried to warn her. There was something about her in that moment, though. Her eyes went back to sadness, the light in them wavering. Her smile was feigned, though she put on the most brilliant of performances for him. "I'm happy for you."

His eyes widened. He had instructed none to enter the gardens, so how on earth did she get in? Furthermore - what if she told her brother before he told the Sultan? She could very quickly intervene, and she was his only witness. His breath shallowed, for just as soon as his plan came to be, it may be snatched away from him. He grabbed her by the wrists, his hands tight about them.

"You shouldn't have been here. I should kill you." He finally said, though the words felt alien and strange on his lips, unconvincing for both him and her. His eyes searched hers. He waited for her to show her reaction - of fright, or flight, but neither happened.

She inched forward, and there was sadness now dimming out the rest of the light from her eyes. "Kill me? Truly?" She said. She turned her hands slowly, offering her palms to him, and perplexed, he placed his hands there. She drew her thumbs over his palms, closing her eyes. "I won't tell anyone… and I am supporting you, Jafar."

He looked to her with an incredulous gaze. "You do not fear death?" He asked.

She reopened her eyes to look up at him. "No. I've heard that death is simply the absence of living, that when one dies, all of them disappears. There is only the void, and no pain. So far, my life has had much pain, save for you." She realized she had revealed a mistake in her story, and quickly covered. "I mean, I love the prince with all of my heart, but he does not want me... hence my pain."

Jafar sighed. "I know you do not love him. You are a terrible liar."

She winced. "It still doesn't change I must do my duty. But you have inspired me, and I have found love with the people of Agrabah. I have found love with those who agree to the betterment of the merchant and tradesmen classes over that of the nobility, and to opening more opportunities to all regardless of birth. You have instilled that desire in me, Jafar, and your noble cause is what I wish to pledge to."

He didn't know what to say to that. He barely knew her, barely spoke with her, and yet she spoke of him in such a manner. "And you pledge your support? How do you have the means to do that?"

She smiled slightly, then looked down at their joined hands. "You told me to start small. I have gained much of what is small now. I have listened to your advice, even if it was a little, because it is the only counsel I have received. For this, I owe you my life."

He should've said no. He should've taken the jeweled dagger at his side and slashed her throat open then. However, he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was something in what she said - the way she was saying it, perhaps. He knew it may be poison to his plans, but he continued to listen.

She moved closer - only then did he realize she wore the same colors as he did. She brought his hands to her lips, kissing each once. "I am yours to command, Jafar. Tell me how I may prove this to you, and I will. In return I expect nothing, for being able to aid one who offered me kindness is joy enough." The last of her words were tearful.

He sighed, deciding not to kill her. 'She looks exactly like her mother…' he told himself. '...But she is entirely different. It is little matter, with this vicious court she will be dead soon enough.' He tried to reassure himself. But the biggest reason why he couldn't do it was her eyes. He saw love there, he saw dedication, and her purity. He just couldn't do it. It would be better to laden her with some impossible task as a distraction, and to keep her out of harm's way. Her dedication may also prove useful to him later on as well. He retrieved his hand from hers, then brought it to her cheek. He whispered mere words before walking away.

"Very well. If you wish to serve me, then make me Grand Vizier."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Aida

The intensity of his gaze had become too much, for now it burned in her mind. All she could think of was him - the man who had the ability to bring peace, stability, and wealth to Agrabah.

There was a bit of difficulty to this for her, though. There was a feeling of loss that she could not explain. There was sorrow in knowing that she would not have a man she could communicate with as a husband. There was grief in knowing that she was remain a black mark on her family. However, she wasn't helpless yet.

Her power was indeed growing. She had taken leave of dinner each evening in the palace to instead cook with others in a soup kitchen with food she'd bought on her dime. She talked with the poor, the merchants, and teachers. She spoke with the tradespeople and architects of the city. She offered her funding to the libraries where she could. She counseled with the Vizier of Health and Medicine over matters such as the rise of Throat Fever, and of contaminated drinking water. Granted, it wasn't a huge difference, but it was all that she could do. The people had begun to see that, and the people loved her. She loved them, too.

Inside the palace, she found avenues and help. She had truly taken Jafar's advice, for the palace had plenty of smaller folk who worked it kitchens, its halls, its security. Over time, she found those who were moved by her efforts in the city. Over time, merchants pressed certain nobles to new positions towards her. Slowly, she began to assemble her own court in the shadows, and most of them had not come out and spoke in favor of her, yet. She learned the secret passageways to listen in on certain rooms, mainly those of the council.

Things came to a head when she began to listen in on the meetings for Agrabah. She'd listen to the Sultan, to the dignitaries… but then, Jafar. When he spoke, his voice was strong and firm. He gave no leeway, and he gave care to the people. His arguments were solid, profound. He was listened to, and most importantly, the Sultan listened, too.

So she decided to aid him. Her own life had been for the prince Hakim, but since now that purpose seemed all but gone, she could at least live for the people. Even as Jafar spoke at times of his life being dedicated to Agrabah, she could envision the same for herself. A marriage of love was not something in the cards for her it seemed, and so this was an honorable way to live. She looked up to him, respected and honored him. She learned from him, and now this was her chance to show what she had learned.

As she headed back to her room, she recalled as he debated killing her. Somehow, she hadn't been afraid, though she didn't doubt his capability to do so. She lay down on her bed, thinking of Jafar, of his eyes as he spoke, his palms against her own. The square of his cloth still was tucked against her breast, and her mind was still filled with thoughts of a longing she did not yet understand. "Jafar…" She whispered, once, trying to imagine him killing her. The flesh under that square of cloth felt impossibly hot, her palms too. Her eyes saw only his own.

No, she was more afraid of her brother.

Her brother was angry and pacing the court's hall, and she sighed as she glanced over to her father. "Please, brother… calm yourself. I'm sure it's nothing." Aida offered, though she got a scowl in return. She motioned to her servant Dalia who approached with her water. The air was rife with tension, and Aida took the water as a grateful means to pause it.

Dalia cleared her throat, then leaned down. "Don't go back to your room alone" she whispered in Aida's ear. With that, she hurried from the room.

Her brother would interrupt her thoughts with more of his ranting.

"The princess does not answer my summons. She hasn't spoken to me. Something is clearly the matter." He paused as the doors opened, and they were called to enter. "About time." He muttered, then strode forward into the room with his false smile.

As she stepped inside, she felt as if her heart was caught in her throat. Inside the chambers stood Jasmine and Jafar - together. It seemed that they had announced their intentions to Jasmine's father already. For some reason, even though she had seen the actual proposal, seeming them together made the reality sink in even harsher.

Jasmine seemed rather happy, for this was her escape. Jafar, too, looked happy… though his face showed a flicker of something she couldn't quite put her finger on as he saw her. She stopped her stride briefly, looking from him to her brother, then her father. She panicked, looking back at Jafar, but he no longer looked at her.

She tried to look stronger than she felt, but she knew what was coming. The end of her father and brother's plans. She was not incorrect. The sultan explained that neither of his children were ready to marry. For the first time, Aida saw her father get angry in the presence of the sultan, his response polite yet terse in tone. She looked over to see both Jasmine and Jafar standing side by side with their hands together. For some reason, this stung at her the most. The prince was nowhere to be seen. She supposed Jasmine to at least be braver than her brother to stand here and face her own decisions.

"Hamad. Take Aida back to her chambers. I wish to speak with the sultan alone…" Her father looked to the sultan. "If you don't mind."

The sultan nodded, dismissing those present.

Aida watched as Jasmine and Jafar headed out of the room before them. 'Please, look back. Once. Please…' She thought, though he did not. Her heart sank, for she could sense her brother's seething rage. Her brother's hand was on her arm. Something in the air was wrong, and she became frightened. 'Help me, please, Jafar…' She blinked back tears. 'Anyone…' She pleaded in her mind, and yet none were to help her. As soon as they were out of sight, Hamad grasped her arm so painfully that she felt the breath seize from her lungs. His other hand gripped over her face.

"I've had enough of this." He growled. He yanked her along the halls, her shrieks muffled by his hand. He lurched her through the door of her chambers, threw her onto the bed, then locked the door.

"Brother, please!" She cried out, and yet that did nothing. A gag was tied about her mouth. She felt him straddling over her, and his fist rained down upon her. She managed to break one wrist free of his spare hand, clocking him once in the jaw. His anger escalated, his wrath in shouts that made her ears ring. She saw stars, she saw her ceiling spinning.

"You are not needed, you usless bitch! Father and I will fix this mess. You'll come back out when your face can be looked at. Until then, Father and I will handle this."

She saw black.

Jafar

At first, he was pleased. The proxy ceremony would be in a couple of weeks, but it hadn't been announced yet. He wasn't in a rush, but after discussing it with Jasmine, they decided it was best to do so sooner rather than later as to not give the Talwar clan a chance to retaliate. He felt a bit of nagging for having left the younger Talwar girl to her own devices, but he had been forced to survive similar or worse conditions in the past. 'She will be fine', he told himself.

How wrong he had been.

Word spread that the girl was deathly ill. A doctor proclaimed her to be in the endless sleep - a state of repose in which one does not ever awaken easily. Jafar knew this to be better called a coma… and he was instantly suspicious. She seemed healthy the last time he saw her, so what happened?

That was not all. The people were getting curious too. Over the course of time, curiosity turned into anger. A hidden court never surfaced, but rumors were being spread. The girl was dying of a broken heart, some said. The girl wanted nothing more than to be the loving wife of an ungrateful, spoiled prince. The soup kitchens went dry, and the orphanages ran out of food. The rumors made their way to the streets, and the fires began.

Glass shattered in the palace as the people threw lit torches inside. They struck outside of the palace for seven days and nights on end, crying out. "Princess Aida!" They called for her, a thunder louder than that of the desert storm. The sultan was growing weary, and then prince was locked in his chambers under guard. Jasmine shirked from him, in fright that he might be killed. They had not announced their proxy marriage ceremony to take place yet, for fear of even more backlash.

No, this would not do, and yet there was something bothering him. The girl had known where he was at the time of his proposal to Jasmine, and even got in where he had been certain to have locked the way. There was something she knew, and he would not rest until he found the answer. He began three days ago with questioning those in the kitchens, then finally he found one that talked. There were serving hallways, from a time when maids were hidden away. The small winding passageways were mostly blocked off from use now, but a couple remained.

He followed one such passageway to the end, his eyes peering through the small cutouts of the marbled walls. Therein, he gazed into the young lady's chamber. She was alone, it seemed, so he pressed his palm to the hidden door.

It slid open silently, and he took care with his step not to rouse the attention of the guards he was sure to be posted outside of her door. He approached the bed, then sat down cautiously as he looked her over.

Her breaths were deep yet shallow, her face full of rest yet weary. Something about her face looked… strange to him. She wore a simple chemise, yet a corner of cloth could be seen peeking out from the top of its neckline at her breast. Curiously, he would tug it out to see what it was, and his suspicions were confirmed.

It was the small scarf he had given her, and she had kept it with her. His mind flashed back to the market, where she proclaimed this the only possession she would keep for herself. That it was her only kindness. The people had listened, and if only she knew how hard they were fighting for her now! Now, many cared for her. He could only smile wistfully at that, but the expression was twisted with a rising anger.

Her brow was beaded with sweat, and her crown wrapped with gauze and pumice. He checked the herbs that had been blended, sniffing once to make sure the balance was right. She twitched once in her slumber, then again. She moaned once, her mouth turned in a grimace. For a moment, he was sure he was caught, but once more she relaxed.

He noticed a smudging of color at the tips of his fingers. He realized that there was only one place it could've come from, and he brought the square of cloth to her brow. He wiped away the sweat there, then lifted the cloth.

Makeup.

His expression turned to that of horror. There were bruises, many of them. He searched her arms, her neck. The girl had been beaten into her current state, it was now obvious to him. He cursed himself for his foolishness. The anger of either her brother or father - whichever it was - was lethal as the rest of the court, and he'd be good to remember it. Everyone knew what happened the last time they were at court, save probably the young lady. 'She is too young… too young for all of this.' He thought. He did his best to smudge the makeup back into place for now. Some still remained on the scarf, so he took out his own current one, rubbing some of the substance off onto his own as evidence. He replaced the original back under the shift she wore, then studied her face.

Despite all that had happened to her, he saw a strength in her that he had not seen before. Jasmine was bold, where this girl's strengths lie in the shadows. Jasmine spoke, whereas this girl simply acted. He could appreciate that, though he then asked himself… why? Why was he comparing the two suddenly? He shook it from his mind. No, this was bad for him, for Jasmine as well. The pressure on the sultan was now enormous, and it looked like the Talwar clan would have their way with one of his children. All he knew was that it could not be Jasmine. At least as a princess, the girl Aida had a chance to survive, for she'd hold power over that of her family. His hand went to her own. He bent down, whispering lowly to her ear.

"This is not right. None of it is right. You are too young, too innocent for this. But the least I can do is make sure you marry that damned prince." He shook with anger, then dashed angrily from the room.

His stride was in a break-neck pace as he angrily raced through the hidden corridors. Near the prince's room, he would step out and face the guards. He demanded to be let in, not expecting agreement from them. He was too involved in his thoughts to wonder upon this as they stepped aside. His palms met the ornate doors of the prince's chambers, swinging them upon with a fury.

The young man looked up, startled. His handsome face was gaunt from his lack of appetite, but Jafar did not care. As the doors smacked shut behind him he dashed to the prince, grabbed him by the collar of his woven tunic, and slammed him in a fury against the wall. Agrabah may have never seen such a rage!

His eyes flashed red, and he growled out. "You will marry Lady Aida if she wakes." He left no room for debate, no room for question. As the prince sputtered and struggled, Jafar's hands went to the prince's neck. "Say it. Say it!"

The prince's eyes were on Jafar's, and his struggles seemed to cease. There was a red reflected in his eyes, and he repeated the words. "I will marry Lady Aida if she wakes."

Jafar blinked. Disgusted, he let go of the prince. The young man slumped to the floor, the both of them catching their breath. He seemed dazed, whereas Jafar was just plain confused. That was easier than he thought it would be. He looked down at the young man.

"Go tell you father, now." He growled out between gritted teeth. He watched as the prince scrambled to his feet, and ran off to tell his father.

Two days later, Lady Aida woke up.

(AN: I hope Jafar's actions make sense here. He's hoping that if the marriage happens, that'll give Aida the power to break free of her family. He's not really in a position where he can instigate a war with the Talwar clan by attacking her brother.

The next few chapters are going to be a doozy, and the story will get darker before it gets resolved. There will still be some lighter moments, too. Right now it's about 2/3rds of the way written, with only 1/3rd of the chapters posted on FF. Eventually, this story will be in the same timeline as the 2019 movie. We'll also hear more from Jasmine soon, which will help us to learn some of her motivations. Let me know how you're liking it!)


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